


Threnody

by I_Stare_Sometimes



Series: Perfect Instances [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Carl Manfred’s Daughter, Connor is Adorable, Detective Original Character, Drama, Drugs, F/M, Family Drama, Feelings, Fluff, Romance, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Smoking, Y’know.. at some point, crime-fighting, when i can afford it:)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 13:43:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15050384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Stare_Sometimes/pseuds/I_Stare_Sometimes
Summary: thren·o·dyˈTHrenədē/Submitnouna lament.~~~~~~~~~Deviant cases seemed to be the only cases the Detroit Police Department ever got, nowadays.Initially she was unbiased, and even a little annoyed at the technological revolutions around her.That was before she met Markus.And definitely before she met Connor.





	1. Nov 6th, 2038 ; PM 11:16:04

##  _Nov 6th, 2038_

PM 11:16:04

  
Detroit.  
  
A haggard, awful cesspool… Yet also, _home_. 

She’d lived here all her life, and there wasn’t a force in the world strong enough to remove her from it’s borders.  
She’d grown to love this place for all its flaws - it’s dirt, and filth. 

  
Taking a particularly long drag of her cigarette, the cool rainy atmosphere made it feel like her lungs were clear.   
Exhaling felt exhilarating, and her smoke danced away to join the smog that laid over the city like a blanket. 

The blues playing in Jimmy’s Bar was muffled through the door of, bringing along her favorite feeling - feeling the nicotine, the rain, and the music.

She was worried.   
Stressed.   
Unhappy and uncomfortable. 

  
She had been called by her father’s caretaker hours before, notifying her that someone was in the house.   
That he had called the police and they were on their way, but that he wanted to inform her as well.   
She thanked him and told him to call her when he could. 

  
Hours. Had gone by, and no answer to her follow-ups. 

  
All she wanted to do was drive home and check on them, but she felt an odd disconnect from reality - a very common factor of life to her.   
The confliction of having to stay to attend to the homicide case, and wanting to also book it home… ate at her, but she ultimately let lack of motivation and slothfulness overtake her critical thinking. 

  
She stayed with Hank.   
She drank.   
She smoked.   
All to ultimately try to outrun the weight on her shoulders and chest. 

  
Flicking the butt away into the street, she cleared her throat as she joined her coworker at the bar.  
  
_Just act okay._

  
“It’ll kill ya, doll,” he said as she took her seat next to him, but all she did was flip him off with a grin. Anderson had no business chastising her.   
“I’ll make you a deal,” she quipped, as he chuckled. “The moment _you_ spare _your_ liver and lungs, and _I’ll_ spare _my_ liver and lungs.” 

The smirk Hank Anderson leveled at her was enough to let her know that that was never going to be a possibility. To that, she raised her glass in a silent toast and she downed the rest of the contents in one go. 

  
Anderson was focused on the game at this point, and basketball wasn’t the reason she was here. She was actually especially hanging around the old man tonight to catch a possible glimpse of that robocop that was assigned to her old friend. 

“How’ve you been, small fry,” Hank asked offhandedly as he watched the television, as if trying to show he still acknowledged her presence next to him. She pursed her lips and glanced at the bartender, nodding as eye contact was made. Jimmy poured her a refill. 

“I’ve certainly been fuckin’ better,” she responded finally with a blurry, far off look in her eye; a frown was present, but she wasn’t present with it.   
Hank seemed to notice, but it was an unspoken rule between the two broken souls - to leave some shit unspoken. 

  
She was going to ask how _he_ was doing, noticing how he seemed to be solely focused on his drink, now - but the door to the bar opening and closing caught her attention.   
“I’ll be damned,” she muttered. 

  
There standing in the doorway, eyes scanning over the bar patrons, was an android. Not just any android, but _the_ android. 

A man at the end of the bar was taken by surprise, if his curse was any clue. “ _Shit_ , I thought androids weren’t allowed in here!”   
_Rude,_  she thought dryly. 

  
The thing seemed to take a longer glance at the man who had spoken, but it kept on looking at each individual face.   
Hers evidently was the only one outrightly facing him, and so thus - the two of them made heavy, long eye contact that made her skin crawl. 

He seemed to scan Hanks face behind her, and that’s when he made his way closer, straightening his tie and rubbing his palms together. 

That threw her for a loop. She’d never seen any android experience… habits? Ticks? Quirks. 

  
She unabashedly stared at him as he was stood beside Anderson, and was thrown for another loop when he spoke.   
“Lieutenant Anderson?”   
His voice was so… unique. He sounded so optimistic and open. 

Hank wasn’t about to _answer,_  but that didn’t seem to matter to the thing. “My name is Conner. I’m the android sent by CyberLife.” 

 _What a cutie_ , she decided with a few rhythmic taps of her fingers against the bar.   
Her brows were furrowed in amusement as Connor, The Android Sent By CyberLife continued addressing Hank, but was essentially making conversation with itself. 

  
“I looked for you at the station but nobody knew where you were… They said you were probably having a drink nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar!” At that, she snorted, and Connor’s attention was directed to she momentarily.   
He was so _sarcastic_ and _personable._

  
Hank, however, seemed unreceptive of how truly amusing this Android Sent By CyberLife was, and only sent an annoyed glance her way before redirecting it to Connor, asking what The Android Sent By CyberLife wanted. 

“You were assigned a case early this evening,” was Connor’s ready reply, “A homicide involving a CyberLife android.”   
She nodded to herself - it was one that she had watched Fowler inform Hank about earlier.   
“In accordance to procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators.” 

And finally, Hank spoke more than three words. “Well, I don’t _need_ any assistance… ‘Specially not from a plastic asshole like _you_. Just be a good little robot and get the fuck outta here.” Hank took a sip from his glass.   
She clicked her tongue, cringing a bit. Obviously, she could tell Hank was _very_ unhappy about all of this, but that was no excuse to be so cold. 

  
She was quiet as she tapped the bar, insinuating Jimmy refill her whiskey. Again.  
She wasn’t about to intervene while Hank was in this mood. 

  
Connor seemed quiet for a moment, and in her peripherals, she could tell he was processing how to continue successfully. Another amazingly elaborate function she was _not_ expecting.   
  
When he spoke, he spoke carefully, as though he was luring a shy child to open up to him. “I understand that some people are not comfortable in the presence of androids, but I a—”  
“—I am perfectly comfortable…” Hank interrupted tensely. “Now,  _back_ off before I crush you like an empty _beer can_.” 

Connor was quiet for another long moment, eyes glancing over the detective sat next to Lieutenant Anderson as he thought.   
Looking to the bar, he saw the bartender - Jimmy Peterson - refilled the woman’s drink. That gave him an idea.

“Listen…” Connor began. “I think you should stop drinking and.. come with me. It’ll make life easier for the both of us.”   
You couldn’t help but look toward Connor again in surprise. He was amicably haggling. Bargaining. Compromising.   
Was that a part of his programming?

You turned to your glass again before you earned attention from Connor again.

  
Nodding sarcastically, Hank took another long sip in response, causing her to smirk against the lip of her glass. 

“You know what?” Connor optimistically tried again, his tone conveying the change of gears. “I’ll buy ya one for the road. Whaddaya say?”

That was unbelievable.   
Gobsmacked, she openly stared.

“Oh, now, _Hank_...” she couldn’t help but admonish, feeling both Connor and Hank’s eyes on her now. “How can you say no to such a nice offer.” 

Taking that as a positive assurance, Connor turned to Jimmy with what could not be mistook for anything but a proud smirk. “Bartender, the same again, please!”  
Jimmy turned around, slightly baffled at being included in the conversation.

She could tell, though, that Hank took a begrudging liking to Connor’s action. “See that, Jim? Wonders of technology.”… He saw his chance. “Make it a double.”  
She chuckled.

After being poured, Hank downed the shot, and grunted at the kick.  
Then, sighing, he relinquished his stubbornness. “Did you say… ‘ _homicide_ ’?” 

As if he hadn’t heard the details before, she thought, scoffing. 

Knocking back the rest of her drink, she patted Hank’s back as she struggled through the burning slide of her whiskey. “See ya there, Hank.”

* * *

She got there before Hank did, and she struggled on her raincoat in the seat of her car, as the rain had started pouring a tad bit heavier.  
She wanted to sit stubbornly safe in her car blasting the heat and the XXXTENTACION until Hank and Connor, The Android Sent By CyberLife, arrived - but Chris had spotted her, and was waving.

“Glad she could make it!” Chris greeted dryly, but in good humor.  
  
“Hold the sassafras, Miller,” she scolded in half hearted defense, too exhausted to mention what was bothering her. “I’m sick of these deviant cases,” she substituted. “And Hank needed a chaperone.”   
  
Chris only snickered, and yet his subtle mirth was so pleasantly vibrant against the backdrop of the drab, dire state of the slummy house the DPD were clamoring about.  
“Ahh,” Chris sighed airily as the laughter subsided. “So… have you gotten a look at the DetectoBot Hank was assigned?”  
It was her turn to snicker.  
It felt good to not think about the call.

Moving toward the covered patio, she nodded. “God, yeah. Hank’s gonna be in hell for as long as these deviant cases keep popping up. It’s adorable, though, so we’ll have a good time.”

Chris nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets as Hank conveniently pulled up.  
“Speak of the devil.” 

She and Chris watched Hank linger in the car, and it was clear he was threatening the poor Android Sent By CyberLife.   
He finally exited the car and approached the house, narrowly avoiding questioning from the beloved reporters clamoring beyond the crime scene. 

She and Chris elected to move inside as Ben moved (through them) outside to greet and debrief Hank, and Chris began busying himself with his tablet, looking over the catalogued evidence.   
This inspired her to begin snooping around, herself, as Ben escorted Hank in, all the while answering his questions. 

She was a bit surprised to see Connor enter the house after Hank, but she made eye contact with Chris - silently notifying him to keep his ears peeled.   
  
Ben dismissed himself, understandably needing air - the air was so rancid, you could cut it with a knife - and with Ben’s absence, Connor seemed to set right off to work.  
As for her, she wandered to the kitchen as Connor ambled around, inspecting the environment; surely picking up things that they all were overlooking.

  
A part of her was bitter. Why send an advanced, unrelenting machine in the midst of hardworking men and women…? 

Yet, another part of her; the part of her that cared for her father’s android, and was obsessed with R2-D2 and (apparently prophetic) shit like _iRobot_ , rebelled against that selfish jealousy. That was the part of she that kept tripping up on his stupidass pronouns.   
_Android Sent By CyberLife. Just keep calling him that.  
__..._ Him _. It…_ Fuck _._

  
Her frustrating thought process was interrupted by Hank scolding Connor for… something… something about putting evidence in his mouth? - that didn’t make sense.   
Out of curiosity, she walked to look around the corner, and saw Connor - somehow looking like a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar - giving Hank a finger-gun-lookin’ salute, with a responsible, “Got it.”  
Making immediate minute-smirking eye contact with Chris, she could tell he was hardly keeping it together.

She moved back to the kitchen, kneeling down to inspect the bat.  
It felt like the moment she did, Connor knelt down pretty much right beside het, making his own silent analyzations. 

Suddenly slightly off put, she started talking - as she often did in uncomfortable situations.   
“So, I’m assuming this entire debacle is an act of self-defense by the deviant.”

She refused to make direct eye contact as Connor looked to her, cocking his head to the side, seemingly surprised at being spoken to.  
Despite his surprise, he seemed to perk up a bit, and responded. “Yes, that is my assumption as well. I need to gather more forensic clues to reconstruct the crime accurately - but so far, I have found fingerprints belonging to Carlos Ortiz on the handle of the bat,” his eyes flickered to the knife rack on the kitchen wall, “and precisely _not_ the knife.” 

She squinted at him.  
“Wait, so you can fully reconstruct full sequences, based on analyzing all evidence.”  
He seemed almost proud as he nodded and confirmed with a very bubbly, “Exactly.”

She couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright,” she laughed slightly, picking herself up from the dusky hardwood. “I had my doubts, but I fully understand your use here, Connor, The Android Sent By CyberLife. I’m Detective MacNamara.”

Connor joined her in standing, and tilted his head in curiosity.  
“‘Connor, The Android Sent By CyberLife’.” He repeated monotonously, almost to himself, causing her to involuntarily snort.

Definitely adorable.

“Pleasure to meet you, Detective MacNamara.”


	2. Nov 7th, 2038 ; AM 12:41:34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The interrogation takes its toll on every participant.  
> Some more than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, yes yes, but guess who the fuck figured out the solution to her paragraph formatting issue >:)
> 
> And also, ya’ll what the hELL is with Ao3’s weird... spaces between punctuation?? I don’t like that. >:(
> 
> I’m slowly but surely figuring out the weird quirks of Ao3, so please, those of you who notice these things, give me time <3

##  _Nov 7th, 2038_

AM 12:41:34 

  
There were very few people that she would outrightly _kill_ if she had the Go-Ahead from the Big Guy upstairs, and society. 

  
On the very, very, tippity-toppity top of that list was good ol’ Gavin Reed, Asshole Extraordinaire.   
His shitty mouth - at the _moment_ \- wasn’t the causing her willingness to kill… it was just _him_ in general.  
Something about his presence made her want to pull her hair out.

Hank was interrogating the deviant android, and her, Gavin, Chris, and Connor were all quietly watching on beyond the glass… and Gavin was… being himself.

  
“ _We could always try roughing it up a little_ ”?   
She turned to give him the _you fuckin’ kiddin’ me_ -iest look she could muster.

“And what good’ll that do, _jackass_? Get you that tough lunch-money adrenaline for a few minutes? Good for fuckin’ you. That’s not what we’re doing.”

Connor glanced innocently between the two detectives as their wills seemed to light sparks in the dark observation room.

Gavin was sneering. “Watch your mouth, _MacNamara_ , I’ve got more experience than you here, therefore making me your superior.”  
MacNamara scoffed. “Oh, you’re _sO_ right, I’m _sO_ sorry. You gonna tattle on me to your _mommy_?”

“Hey, hey, h _ey_ , that’s _enough_!” Hank finally roared. “You two assholes are giving me a headache.”

He massaged his forehead.

“ _I’m_ technically _both_ of you guys’ superior, so whatever we do, it’ll be left up to _me_. _Got it_?”

MacNamara was silent, considering Hank’s interjection a victory against Reed. Reed however was still seething.

It was Connor that interjected next. “Androids don’t feel pain.” He sounded so ready and able to provide information. “You would only damage it, and that wouldn’t make it talk.”

Gavin’s jaw cocked, but Connor wasn’t through.  
“Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they’re in stressful situations—”  
“—O _kay_ , smartass!” Gavin butt in, sarcastically optimistic. “What should we do then?”

MacNamara looked back to Connor, as did Chris and Hank, and she was yet again blown away at how fucking adorable the Android Sent By CyberLife could be.

His head head moved back and forth gently, following his eyes as they bounced between Hank and Gavin, not meeting their eyes. “ _I_ could try questioning it...”

Brooks couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. He sounded like a child trying to convince his tough friends he was tough too.

It was unfortunate that her laugh of disbelief seemed to add to the effect of Gavin’s obnoxious, derisive laughter.

  
When she felt Connor’s eyes on her, she tried her hardest to convey kindness in her smile.

Hank, however, was unamused… but definitely curious.   
“What do we have to lose?”

 

* * *

   
Almost _Conner_ , apparently.

After a very shockingly understanding and controlled — except for… y’know… the “TWENTY. EIGHT. STAB WOUNDS” part — interrogation by Connor, MacNamara realized that the HK400 easily wouldn’t be the threat.  
It definitely wound up being none other than Gavin Reed.

Something clenched her gut as Connor stepped between Chris and the HK400. Something that made her respect for him rise exponentially.  
And as Gavin aimed his gun at Connor, yelling, “I _warned_ you, mother _fucker_!”, that feeling in MacNamara’s gut squeezed in a vice, making her hand jump straight to her own gun.  
  
Hank, however, placed a warning hand on her hand positioned on her holster. “That’s _enough_!”  
Turns out, telling the good Lieutenant Anderson to mind his own business warranted _his_ pistol to join the fray.

Suddenly, the absurdity of the scene struck her, and the highly tense situation made her react like an insane person.

She laughed out loud.  
A loud, goofy guffaw.  
  
“Is this an episode of The fucking _Office_?” She cackled again, causing all the men in the room to look at her like she was crazy. She mimed holding dual pistols and aimed at Chris and Hank, continuing her laughter. “Fucking _punkass_ ,” she added breathlessly, addressing Gavin while obviously trying her hardest to regain her breath  
  
Looking between her and Hank, lost in anger and disbelief, Gavin cursed as he lowered his gun, but this only caused MacNamara to double over, laughing even harder. “ ** _F-kch_**??”

Gavin looked about ready to kill her, the gun in his hand shaking from the force of his grip - but she didn’t give a shit. It felt so insanely good to just _laugh_.   
Hank ah-ah’d a warning, as Gavin looked highly susceptible to shooting her point-blank. 

He turned his attention to Hank, and pointed a threatening finger.   
“You’re not gonna get away with it this time…” 

Connor was staring at Gavin, head-on, his face impassive and somehow steadfast. 

“Get away with _what_ , Reed,” MacNamara challenged for Hank, suddenly moving around Gavin to stand by Connor’s side - adding a barrier between the Android Sent By CyberLife. “Doing his _job_?”  
Gavin just glowered at her and shoved her back against Connor’s chest. Connor’s hands automatically reached up to steady her, gripping her biceps gently.

Leaving the room, Gavin cursed again, but this time it only made MacNamara angrier. 

Fuming, she took a step away from Connor, muttering an apology.   
Connor’s eyes met her own, and he nodded.

Somewhere deep in his mind, he was concerned for the manic episode she had just displayed, but that wasn’t the concern at the moment. 

He turned and regarded the HK400. “Everything is all right,” he comforted. “It’s over now… Nobody is going to hurt you.” 

For the thousandth time tonight, MacNamara couldn’t help but be moved by the gentleness the Android Sent By CyberLife displayed.

Turning to Chris, Connor murmured a plea. “Please… don’t _touch_ it. Let it follow you out of the room and it won’t cause any trouble.”   
The HK400 rose, and Chris watched it numbly, looking between MacNamara, Connor, and the HK - MacNamara nodding encouragingly.

All the while, Hank was quietly watching everything unfold.

As Chris left the room, that left the detective, Connor, and Hank.

The two humans in the room shared a very brief but meaningful look, before both turning to look at Connor.   
The moment the two looked to him, he avoided their gazes, looking down at the table in the room.

 

* * *

AM 2:23:38 

  
She didn’t even remember getting home, but her body didn’t allow her one _instant_ to decompress and healthily figure out her shitty mental status.

All she could do was lifelessly collapse on her couch and stare.

  
She _must_ have fallen asleep, because she was startled awake by a rushed knocking coming from her—...

She was disoriented and dehydrated...

—Her back door?

  
She stumbled off the couch, tripping on herself, and rushed through the kitchen to reach the back door.

The only precaution her fucked up brain seemed to remember to do, was to keep her hand on guard on her holster.

  
She peered out the fogged glass, and her heart speared down to her toes.   
She scrambled to unlock and open the door, her breath erratic, and her hands shaking.

  
Breathless, she uttered: _“Markus_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beeeear with me...  
> I felt as thought I was going a bit overboard with the interrogation scene, but I honestly felt like it would’ve been the most interesting reacting to the fairly cliche scene that is the result of Connor successfully stressing out/intervening the Hk400 dude. 
> 
> And also, it’s like, 3am, so my the only thing I’ve got to lose is my dignity, but that bitch yeeted on outta here ages ago,, sO :’)


End file.
